


Under The Mistletoe

by Shoz



Series: Transformer One and Two Shots [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Christmas Party, First Kiss, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:18:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoz/pseuds/Shoz
Summary: Jazz takes to Earth holiday traditions very well. Especially when they include a way to get closer to a certain grouchy medic.





	Under The Mistletoe

Jazz put a CD into the player and smiled as the music began to play. Looking around, the sports car nodded in satisfaction.

“Music, check. Christmas decorations, check. Snacks, check. Looks like this party is ready to begin!”

Ratchet was the first to enter the room. He paused and looked around.

“It looks like someone threw up Christmas decorations in here,” the old medic commented.

“Looks like someone has a case of the humbugs,” Jazz replied.

Ratchet rolled his optics and shook his head as he went to grab himself a cube.

Jazz chuckled, watching the older mech from behind his visor.

Ratchet grabbed a cube and slowly drank it, enjoying the flavor.

“Like my special holiday blend?” Jazz asked. “It’s got copper and iron in it.”

“It’s better than Bumblebee’s. I know the kid meant well, but it tasted of stale energon and paint thinner,” Ratchet replied.

“That’s probably because it was stale energon and paint thinner,” Jazz chuckled.

Ratchet snorted in amusement.

Jazz grinned, then looked up as the rest of the team entered. “Welcome to the party!”

“Wow, you really went all out,” Optimus commented as he looked around.

“He often does,” Prowl said.

“We’ve got music, we’ve got snacks. What more could a good party need?” Jazz quipped.

“Hey, what’s that?” Bee asked, pointing to a small plant hanging over the food.

“That’s something called mistletoe,” Jazz replied. “There’s a human tradition that if 2 people are under it at the same time, they have to kiss.”

“Humans are so strange,” Optimus stated. “We’ve been on this planet for a few years, yet I’ll never quite understand their customs.”

“I know, but they’re still fun.”

Ratchet didn’t notice the plant he was under as he looked over the food.

Jazz noticed it though. With a cheerful grin, he causally wandered over to the table.  
“Enjoying the party?”

“The music is alright. Last year, Bumblebee made us listen to something that sounded simply horrible,” Ratchet replied before eating a rust stick.

“Hey, my taste in music is great!” Bee protested.

“No, it really isn’t,” Jazz said.

“Your music sounds like a dying trash compactor,” Ratchet retorted.

Bee pouted at them.

Ratchet shook his head before eating a rust stick.

Jazz grinned and turned his attention to the older mech. “Oh look, someone’s under the mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe? What on Earth is mistletoe?” Ratchet grumbled.

“Just a little Christmas tradition. This little tradition, in fact,” Jazz said before leaning over and giving Ratchet a kiss.

Optics wide with shock, Ratchet jerked back and spluttered. “W-what the pit are you doing?!”

“I thought it was rather obvious,” Jazz grinned. “I’m kissing you.”

“WHY are you kissing me?!”

“I told you, you’re under the mistletoe. It’s a Christmas tradition.”

“You kissed me because of some dumb tradition?” Ratchet snapped.

“Is something wrong? You seem upset,” Jazz said.

“You think?!” Ratchet snapped again before turning to leave.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jazz asked.

Ratchet muttered something about young mechs and kissing willy nilly.

“If I offended you, I’m sorry.”

Ratchet paused and sighed. “No harm done, kid.”

Jazz frowned a little. “Please don’t call me a kid.”

Ratchet looked at him and nodded once. “Very well.”

“I’m still a little confused,” Jazz said. “Are you mad because I kissed you, or because you think I only kissed you because of the mistletoe?”

“This whole human holiday is confusing. As are its traditions,” Ratchet replied.

“Maybe this will clear things up,” Jazz said before stepping closer and stealing a kiss.

Ratchet’s optics widened and he felt himself blush as his spark skipped a beat.

Breaking the kiss, the sports car smiled sweetly.

Ratchet stood stock still with a dazed look in his optics.

Jazz chuckled softly at the sight. “Cute.”

That seemed to bring Ratchet back to his senses. “Cute? Don’t call me cute, I am not cute!”

“I think that you’re cute. Handsome too.”

Ratchet scowled. “I don’t like being teased.”

“Teased? I’m not teasing you.”

Ratchet threw up his hands with an annoyed groan.

“I don’t get it. You act like you’ve never been kissed before,” Jazz said.

Ratchet snorted. “It’s been a while, that’s all.”

“That’s a shame.”

‘Why is he suddenly interested in me?’ Ratchet wondered. ‘Surely Prowl is more his type.’

“You’re a good kisser,” Jazz said. “I’d like to do it again.”

Ratchet just stared at him, completely confused.

Jazz grinned and stepped closer.

Ratchet tried to back away but ended up trapping himself in a corner.

Placing a hand on either side of the ambulance, Jazz leaned in and kissed him.

Ratchet’s spark skipped a beat but he didn’t push the sports car away.

Jazz broke the kiss when he needed to breathe, but didn’t pull back. He purred quietly and simply enjoyed being close to the red and white mech.

“W-why? Why me?” Ratchet asked.

“Why not?” Jazz replied. “You’re smart, caring, handsome, and have an adorable temper. Need I go on?”

“I’m at least 3 times your age,” Ratchet pointed out.

“We can live for millions of years. You really think a few thousand means anything?”

Ratchet’s jaw clinched as nothing came to him.

“I find you interesting and attractive,” Jazz said. “I want to have a relationship with you. What’s wrong with that?”

“Surely there’s someone else more fitting,” Ratchet protested. “Like Prowl or Optimus?”

“Prowl? Prowl’s practically my brother, man,” Jazz chuckled. “And Optimus has his optic on someone else.”

Ratchet stammered, trying to come up with another excuse.

“Come on, Ratchet. What’s really bothering you about this?”

Ratchet sighed. “Surely, you’d want someone who doesn’t look like me.”

“Look like you?” Jazz repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ratchet groaned. “Look at me. I’m an old washed-up medic.”

“That’s not true, don’t talk like that.”

Ratchet heaved another sigh.

“You’re a brilliant medic, you always have been,” Jazz said. “And I think you look great.”

Ratchet looked at him. He couldn’t find any deceit in the sports car’s optics.

“You… really mean that?”

Jazz smiled and nodded. “Why do you think I put up that mistletoe in the first place?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t understand human traditions.”

“I put it up so I’d have an excuse to kiss you.”

“But what if someone else had walked under it?”

“Then I would have hung back and let one of the others kiss them.”

“You’ve thought of everything, huh?”

“I usually do,” Jazz grinned.

Ratchet couldn’t help but grin back.

Smiling happily, Jazz leaned in for another kiss.

This time Ratchet didn’t shy away; he welcomed it and even returned the kiss.

Jazz purred into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the older mech.

Ratchet purred in reply and pressed close.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Jazz gave him a dazzling smile. “Shall we go back and enjoy the party?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Ratchet could say.

Jazz smiled and put an arm around Ratchet, leading him back to the party.

Ratchet smiled back, looking forward to the party and to what would come after.


End file.
